Change in Plans
by Omicron70
Summary: He wanted a break from the complicated expectations of a child of Hell, so he took the easiest meat suit he could find: A baby. He expected a quiet life, but his plans changed drastically when he started feeling. Demon!Stiles, Stiles' POV. Sterek & Destiel.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I thought I'd give you guys a little info on how this story is formatted. This chapter is a prologue, then I'm going to do some canon-compliant stuff in Stiles' POV up until around the end of season 2, and then I'll go into a more AU territory. Sam and Dean won't be around until after the season 2 stuff.

* * *

The point of hiding out in an infant's body was so he could take a break from the complicated relations that come with dealing with creatures of Hell. He never imagined that he would end up dealing with something far, far more complicated.

It had all started with the Stilinski woman. She had cried when they told her that her child wasn't going to make it, and her tears had drawn his attention. The infant's soul was gone by the time he entered the room. In the grief that came with the loss, no one noticed when the black cloud filtered in. It was different this time, when he entered the body. He felt a quick but intense pain, but just as soon as it started, it was over and he was in control of the body. He had never possessed a dead body, nor a baby, so he figured it must have just been a product of one or both of these things. The cry that filtered through the melancholy atmosphere of the delivery room startled the nurses and attracted the bloodshot gazes of the man and woman clutching each other on the bed. They both let out a wet sob of joy and renewed their hug with a new fervour as the doctor and nurses rushed to tend to the child.

The woman sobbed as she held him for the first time. He reached his hand up to grab at her face and was rewarded with a muffled sob from the man leaning over her shoulder. She gently lifted the wrapped bundle towards him. The man sniffled and wiped his face on his sleeve before accepting the bundle. He bunched his chubby little hand in the human's shirt as the man rocked back and forth gently. He saw the woman smiling with silent tears running down her cheeks, and something inside him stirred. He decided that it was just a gas bubble.

* * *

It was surprisingly simple to act his meat suit's age. It was easy to tune in to the development of its brain, losing himself in the charade. For instance, at four, he tells his parents that he doesn't like his name, and would much rather have a nickname. He instantly regrets his choice of words because his parents look hurt. They exchange a look and his mother asks him what he would rather be called, and he softly mentions that he liked the name that his hair dresser calls him. They smile at that and agree that it is an interesting name, and he feels a lot better about bringing up the subject. Not only did he get what he wanted, but he didn't disappoint his parents with his choice. They only called him by his real name when they were really angry after that. The nickname caught on quickly, until everyone was calling him Stiles.

He realizes that he really shouldn't have cared what his meat suit was called, and that he _really_ shouldn't have cared that his parents were hurt by what he thought of the name. He blames this strange attachment to the Stilinskis on the child's brain's instincts towards its parents. He uses this as an excuse, also, when he begins referring to them as mom and dad, even in his head.

* * *

He found it difficult to make friends. The children's instincts were too strong, and they would avoid him. He saw how he made them squirm when he tried to talk to them, so he eventually just gave up on talking to the children at his daycare. He started taking a shovel and pail to make castles to destroy in the sand box. Most children preferred to play on the playground, so he didn't disturbing anyone. Sometimes one of the women who took care of them would come over and try to encourage him to play with the other children, but he refused, telling her simply that he didn't want to play with them. They called home to his parents, telling them he didn't like socializing, and when his parents asked, he told them that he didn't like any of the children.

He didn't like lying to them; He hated that they could tell when he was.

He was transferred to a new daycare a week later. He knew it would be the same thing, and that no matter their good intentions, his parents weren't going to make things better. He kept this belief up until he was playing in the new sandbox and saw from the corner of his eye an overall-clad little boy plop down in the sand next to him. The boy's hair was too long and fell into his eyes, so he even when he pushed it away from his face it would fall back to obstruct his vision again.

"Can I help?" the boy asked. Bright brown eyes stared at him expectantly, reminding Stiles that he had been asked a question.

"Uh, if you want to," he answered, still half expecting the boy to get up and run away screaming. When he didn't, but instead grabbed a handful of sand and started packing it into a small pail, Stiles could do nothing but stare at him still slightly shell-shocked.

When he realized he was the only one working, the boy looked up and crinkled his eyebrows in confusion.

"Am I doing it wrong?" he asked worriedly.

Stiles shook his head and grinned instead, "Nope, you're good."

He continued to marvel at the boy's lack of self preservation instincts as he helped build a moat around the castle.

* * *

It wasn't until around the time his body had grown to the age of seven, that he realized he sometimes did things for the humans that weren't strictly necessary. He even did _nice_ things, and did them with the goal to make them smile or to praise him. This was not part of his original plan, and he was positive that if a demon were to catch scent of what he was doing that he would be sent straight back to Hell to spend a few centuries _relearning_ how to "behave properly".

So he tried to ignore his parents, and defy their wishes. This lasted for almost a year, but he tired of the yelling and being confined to his room and came up with a new plan. He could be a good little human son and still do evil. He went back to doing nice things for them and following their orders, but used his powers to give them bad luck. They tripped over toys, slipped on water, broke glasses, and on one occasion, the Stilinski man got into a minor car crash. He felt better about his position because of these things. He wasn't hurting them directly, nor was he compromising himself. His plans, however, were spoiled once again by the Stilinski woman.

He was nine when the bad luck plan finally backfired on him. Looking back he cursed himself for being so petty in the first place. He remembered being on the phone with Scott when his parents came into the kitchen and told him they needed to talk. He had huffed when he had to say goodbye. He turned to his parents, irritated, but they told him to sit down softly, and they sat on either side of him. He remembers his brows furrowing at the solemn atmosphere.

"What's going on? What's wrong?" He had asked, and remembers how his heart began beating faster.

They explained all the testing that had been done, and all the options they had for treatment, but all he could think about was how it was all his fault, and why had he thought the curse was a good idea? He remembers getting angry, yelling at them to stop and to leave him alone. He ran to his room and couldn't stop the angry tears from spilling over. When his mother came in a few minutes later, all he could do was cling to her.

* * *

He undid the curse, and while the amount of stubbed toes and destroyed dishes declined dramatically, the one thing he needed to go away didn't.

* * *

It was as he sat by his mother's bed in the hospital that he finally classified the strange feeling that stirs inside him. Being a demon for so long had made him forget. He felt - he felt a lot of things. A deep morose feeling curled around his ever-present guilt over what he had caused. He felt affection for the woman whose hand he was holding, the man who had fallen asleep in the chair on the other side of her bed, and for the boy who had let him cry into his shoulder when he found out about Stiles' mother. He also felt defeated, because after two years of trying and failing, he hadn't cured his mother of her illness. Now it was in the last stages and he knew he was unable to help her. His mother had lost all her hair, hair he remembered pulling as a young child and burying his face into when she hugged him.

Once he realized that he could feel, it seemed that he was flooded with so many emotions he felt he was going to burst. It made him wonder what he was like before he had went to hell and had his memories and feelings burned out of his soul.

* * *

He slept with his father the night of her death, but the next night he went to his own bed. He had his first panic attack that night. He'd had four more since then.

* * *

He stood silently, completely motionless, as the ornate box was lowered into a whole in the ground. He couldn't help glaring at the box. His mother wasn't in there and she wasn't coming back. It didn't matter what the chunk of wood that her meat suit was placed in, he was never going to see her again. There was no way a human like her could ever end up in Hell, and he would never wish that upon her; Even if it meant he could see her again. She would be ruined in a place like that, become like him: a monster destined to destroy everything good in the world. He couldn't even imagine her trying to hurt someone, trying to take their soul for the King of Hell.

Neither him nor his father cried at the burial. They had shed enough every night since her death. His father tried to be strong for him, and all Stiles wanted to do was to curl up in his arms, but he couldn't bring himself to because he knew it was all his fault. He hated himself for killing her, and he hated himself more for caring. He wished he had never heard the woman's broken cries that night in the hospital and that he'd never even thought of taking his stupid meat suit.

* * *

A/N: Hello my lovelies. Thank you for getting this far! I can't tell you guys how long this story will be, because it's still an in-progress idea as it is, but this first chapter has been around long enough that I figured I'd just get it out there. Hopefully it will have had enough time to get noticed by the time it gets cooking. Assuming it's good enough for people to want to read it. Urk. Btw, the amount of compassion Stiles has will be explained in a later chapter (probably much later). It will also explain why he has been able to stay on Earth without being detected. Patience my dears, all in good time.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I was having a dilemma the other day. Demons don't need to eat, but ones that are hiding out in a vessel, such as dearest Stiles here, would need to eat to fit in, yes? What then, would they eat? There is salt in EVERYTHING. It's a plot hole, I know, but I'm just going to say that as long as it's purified rock salt (aka table salt, and we'll say sea salt just for simplicity's sake) it doesn't have as potent an effect. Canon be damned.

* * *

Stiles is doing his homework in his room when he hears the Sheriff getting paged in to work. He listens to the conversation - ah, the perks of super hearing - and then to his father's footsteps making their way to his room. The Sheriff knocks on his door and comes in. He gives Stiles a stern look as he puts on his jacket.

"You," he accents this word by shaking his index finger at his son, "are not to leave this house, you understand? You are going to get your homework done and you're going to go to bed on time."

Stiles salutes him, "Sir, yes, sir!" His father shakes his head, then sighs and leaves.

He waits until his dad's car had been gone for ten minutes before he goes to grab a sweater.

* * *

After taking a quick analysis of the area to make sure no one was around, Stiles pulls himself up into the tree outside Scott's house. He's contemplating what he's going to tell Scott to convince him to go when they end up scaring the pants off each other.

It's always scarily easy to convince Scott to do something stupid - and almost always illegal - with him. Getting him to go into the woods at night to look for a dead body of a girl whose murderer is still on the loose is actually not the worst and most dangerous thing Stiles has ever gotten Scott to do. He chuckles to himself over Scott's self preservation instincts. Some things never change.

He forgets sometimes just how terrible they are, and rolls his eyes when he realizes that Scott lagged behind in the middle of the woods, at night, with a possible murderer in the area. His dad's fuming the whole way home, but Stiles is more focused on the fact that Scott's still out there, completely able to keep searching but probably already half-way home. He grumbles to himself about wasted potential.

* * *

He should probably feel a little bad that he hadn't even though of the possibility of Scott getting hurt when he was left alone, but that thought was quickly over shadowed by Scott's story, and then Lydia. He doesn't think much about the bite until after lacrosse practice. He likes that Scott put the arrogant assholes - Jackson, cough - on the team in their place at first, but after he's done cheering and cackling, he really starts to think about it. He knows a little too much about the true nature of this world to ignore the sudden spike in performance from his asthmatic friend.

At first he jokes about it being lycanthropy to Scott, because there haven't been werewolves in Beacon Hills since the Hale fire, but once he sees Derek Hale, he actually begins to consider this as plausible. He mutters about jinxing things on their trek out of the woods. Scott gives him a strange look, but knows better and doesn't ask. He's had too many long winded rants earned from questioning Stiles when he talks to himself.

He remembers Derek and his family from when he was a kid. He knew what they were; The wet dog scent that followed them everywhere was a dead giveaway. The first time he met one of them was on the playground. The meeting consisted of both of them sniffing the air, crinkling their noses at what they smelled. All other meetings with the Hales were strikingly similar.

The next lacrosse practice has him wondering, mostly because Scott was acting pretty strange, but it's not until Scott tells him he needs to bathe because he smells like shit that he really starts to worry.

After hours of web surfing and hunting through the library, Stiles leans back in his computer chair and lets out a stressed sigh.

"How am I going to explain this one?" He asks out loud. He calls Scott anyway.

Once there, he explains his findings to Scott and tries to make him understand why he thinks it would be best to cancel his date with Allison. Stiles has always thought of Scott like a puppy: innocent, clumsy and completely harmless. In that moment, though, he feared what was happening to Scott. Later, in the locker room, he starts to smell the pungent aroma his nose had picked up for the first time in years just the other day. In that moment, he fears Scott. He doesn't know if he can bring himself to hurt him; Even if that means giving up his meat suit. That scares him more than anything.

* * *

As Scott volunteers to go get the keys off the janitor's dead body, Stiles thinks about Scott in Purgatory, and how out of place he would be with all the monsters there. He paces and worries about the fact that he's letting his best friend prance off to his death, or maybe to kill everyone Scott cares about. Both would end up with Scott dead, because he would probably off himself if he so much as hurt Allison. Plus the fact that it would be partially Stiles' fault because, technically, he could have gone to get the keys and even if he did run into the alpha he wouldn't die per say. He might have to pull out some mojo, though that would attract a lot of unwanted attention, which was also a problem and Stiles realises that he was breathing rather rapidly because suddenly everyone is looking at him really strange and he needs to calm down. He reasons that he wouldn't have been able to convince Scott to let him go in his place, anyway. This helps him calm his breathing enough so he could focus and hear Scott coming down the hall. He sighs in relief because at least he was alive for now. Then he starts formulating ideas on what the hell he'd do if Scott wasn't himself. So far, he's hoping on Allison being enough to bring him back to his senses.

* * *

Stiles isn't sure what to do about Derek Hale. The guy would be saving his life one minute, then acting completely evil another. If there was one thing he hated about creatures with super hearing, it was that they were really good actors. They could perfect the art of lying, because they knew the tells from studying humans and knew when they were showing the signs, easily curbing the effects in their own bodies. He's pretty used to deceit but he finds that creatures like Derek were more complicated than demons. After all, he could always trust in the fact that Hell's children were either lying or only telling the truth for personal gain. He knew that he could, and would, be sold out or killed without a second thought, if it so suited their cause, and he knew he would do the same in a heart beat. But Derek is so much more unpredictable. He wasn't readable like humans - and Scott, his mind supplies - who wear their emotions out for everyone to see, to smell. Stiles was finding it really difficult to read when Derek was being honest and when he was using him for personal gain. He finds it infuriating and fascinating at the same time. The lack of evident emotional attachment to anything is what attracted him to Lydia in the first place, then he became fascinated with why she would keep how brilliant she is hidden. She became a mystery for him to figure out.

Derek. He had to figure out what to do about Derek. It seemed like everything went back to Lydia in his life now. But, he decides, steeling himself against the distraction, he needs to figure Derek out. He gives himself a moment to marvel that he'd found someone more complicated than Lydia, even if just because of the threat of death, and then goes back to analyzing his and Scott's encounters with Derek and all the information they have on him. He writes out the times that Derek saved their asses, the instances where he was really sketchy and totally untrustworthy, and also all the times they had made Derek's life a lot more difficult. He then writes the pros and cons of keeping Derek as an ally compared to having him killed and out of their hair. Stiles sighs in frustration. He has spent a good two hours trying to figure this out and he's just as confused by the guy as when he started. He hated not knowing motives.

He does know that neither of them trust the other, and he also figures they probably need each other to resolve all the shit going on. Stiles needs the alpha gone before too much attention was drawn to the situation from outsiders. Last thing he wants is more hunters - or better yet, a demon - to show up. Stiles had learned the hard way with the situation in the school, and also because of dealing with Scott on the full moon, that they were going to need Derek's help when dealing with Scott's "PMS". Not to mention the alpha issue is too big for either party to handle on their own; It might not even be feasible together. He resigns to the fact that he's going to have to keep Derek around for a while longer.

* * *

A/N: I would like to give many, many hugs to ShinobiTwin05, Professor CatEars, Mwhahahaha18, Mehan-Smith, Lindsey0, Katherine-Riddle-96, Ishundania, AlbanNeji, vdean13, Tariono4ka, Mysterygurl13, and Kayilisiase for the alerts and/or favourites! Special hugs are reserved for HERAELIS-HIME, awaylaughing, KiraJade, and Bloody-kick-ass for the reviews! Thank you all for giving this baby a chance! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles knew. He had pieced together that Derek had taken Scott's phone because he _knew _Stiles would figure it out. Stiles was, and still is, Derek's only hope of rescue. He plans on keeping this to himself and finds he doesn't even feel bad this time. He has a list of people he needs to protect, and the only one higher than Scott on the list is his dad. Stiles knows Scott will run in blindly attempting to be the hero that saves Derek, even when there's no chance of success or even survival. Stiles isn't going to risk everything to save some guy he was considering killing anyway. No, life would be much simpler once Derek Hale was out of the picture.

* * *

On prom night, he lets out one of his older personalities a little; the one he used to use most frequently, anyhow. He remembers using the voice when he bedded a woman in the eighteenth century. He'd convinced her that she loved him, and then enlisted her to help him murder her husband so she could run off with him. He did this only to tell her she was worthless to him the night of their get away, just so he could see her heart break before he ripped it out of her chest. He had loved seeing the realization dawn across her face, the moment where she finally put together the pieces.

He finds his assertive voice rusty when he tries to use it on Lydia. It's shaky, and doesn't have the same seductive undertone. He wonders if this body can even do a seductive voice. He also realises that he doesn't like the way the word love sounds anymore. Once it was one of his favourites. He used to delight in the way the lie could slide off his tongue, hooking whatever pathetic human he had targeted. He had relished in how easy it was to fool them - how easily they fooled each other - into believing that there was love involved in their petty relationships. Now, though, he finds the word tastes sour. He avoids using it then, and a rant tumbles out of his mouth. He discards this as another one of the ridiculous reactions he's been getting since he first started wearing his meat suit. Along with his reaction to the word, he also tries to bury the ache in his chest that bears down on him when Lydia runs off to find Jackson.

He panics when he sees her broken and bloodied body lying on the field, and Stiles' heart feels like it's going to rip itself out of his chest because goddammit this is not how things were supposed to go. He stumbles over his words; tries to lie, but the little fucker can smell it on him. Usually he can mask it, but his reason is clouded by the pattering of his heart and his running thoughts. Finally he blurts out the wanted information to bargain for Lydia's life.

When he finds himself as Peter's captive, it's his own self-preservation skills he's rolling his eyes at. And yet, he can't find a speck of remorse for his actions. Stiles wishes, not for the first time, that he'd never ended up with this dumbass defective meat suit.

* * *

Plan A to defeat the alpha flops, and Stiles really hadn't had time to make a Plan B. It's all he can do to stand in shock as _Scott_ comes up with a plan. He stores that little tidbit away before, once again, Derek helps save their asses and then proceeds to be a gigantic dick wad.

Stiles knows that Derek was lying about the cure, but he'd continued letting Scott believe it because he knew he needed both Scott and Derek working together to take down the alpha if he were to avoid using his mojo. Stiles rubs his temples and concludes once again that life would be so much more simple once Derek was dead. Newly equipped with his new alpha powers, however, Stiles scraps all his previous plans to kill Derek and starts from scratch.

* * *

Scott and Stiles finally get the chance to do normal teenaged boy things after the Creepy Uncle Peter Incident. They're playing video games – sweet, sweet, violent video games – when he hears Scott's sniffer going. He waits for the inevitable question.

"Hey Stiles?"

"What," he grinds out, shoving his shoulder into Scott's side in an attempt to flip his car off the virtual road. Scott shoves back.

"I know I've asked this before but it's just so weird. Have you always smelled like this, man? I mean, no wonder you can't get a girlfriend."

Stiles knows there's a smirk on Scott's face without having to look over.

"Yeah, well, you don't exactly smell like daisies yourself, fur ball." He bashes his shoulder into Scott again, this time to push him off the bed.

"Hey!" Scott laughs from his new spot on the floor. Stiles feels a grin creeping across his face despite himself. "No, seriously man, do you not bathe? Or do you just eat rotten eggs and the smell seeps out of your pores?"

Stiles wiggles his eyebrows, "Maybe it's just all part of my manly aroma."

Scott wrinkles his nose at him, "Dude, ew. What the hell does that even mean?"

Stiles grins, "Exactly."

Scott rolls his eyes and categorizes it as another Weird Stiles Thing as Stiles resolves to buy stronger scented shampoo and body wash.

* * *

His longing for simplicity turns into a burning hatred and need to kill Derek. It seems like everywhere he goes, he smells a new supernatural being. Lydia, Jackson, Isaac, Erica, Boyd. All of them, as far as Stiles is concerned, are Derek's fault and if something more powerful shows up, he's giving it Derek's address and a stalk of wolfs bane to speed the process. Not to mention the little stunt where he beats the shit out of Scott and has Erica throw him in a dumpster. He had to pretend to be out cold for a full two hours while she lugged him around. He was fuming even before he found out about Scott.

Not to mention Jackson. He's pissed about Jackson. Werewolves are one thing, but he doesn't even know what to call Jackson now. He smells reptilian, and he smells _strong_.

Later, Scott talks him down from breaking and entering into the Argent's house to steal something incredibly lethal against werewolves. Scott brings up the Hale Fire, and the _complicated_ relationship between Derek's uncle and sister, and of course Kate Argent. He admits sulkily to Scott that Derek had had a pretty rough go in life, not that that made him trust him any more, nor did it give him the right to fuck around with other people's lives or to expect them to respect and fear him on principle. Even though Stiles does fear him, though he keeps that thought to himself.

He fears how close Derek was getting to them, he fears how many times Stiles had intervened to save his life, how many times Derek had saved Scott and Stiles. He hates that he needs Derek.

He also really hates how much Erica is growing on him. She was like a leech, awful and not entirely wanted, but still not without some benefits. That is, if you could get past how much you wanted it gone and despised it's existence. He squeezes his eyes shuts and dispels the awful analogy.

* * *

_Okay_, Stiles thinks to himself, watching Isaac cower in submission, _that's kind of really hot._

"I'm the alpha," Derek explains, though Stiles would more classify the tone as bragging. Stiles feels a familiar flutter in his stomach. He thinks bitterly that at least he can actually classify this reaction. He stares distastefully down at his crotch, and chastises it on it's poor taste in subject.

The worst part was, that this hadn't been - and wouldn't be - the only instance that his meat suit had decided that Derek is the perfect subject for its attention. Inopportune moments such as this were becoming more and more frequent, and Stiles was going insane. Add a couple late night replays to that, and Stiles had a big problem. Trust his meat suit to want to bang the biggest annoyance to ever own such a fine ass.

Nothing ever goes the way Stiles wants it to in this town.

* * *

A/N: Big slobbery kisses to ShinobiTwin05, Tariono4ka, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Kkez2y5, Keiko Sheena, Du'Varg, chacra, PuppetMaster55, casanovakk, AnAbominableSnowman, and the mysterious guest who was unable to sign in for the reviews that keep me going! Y'all are beyond awesome.

I had to stick to thanking just those who reviewed by name because there were too many people who favourited and followed! I am still overwhelmingly appreciative to you guys, I just wanted to give a shout out to those who took the time to review.

**I really really really REALLY hate this chapter, and I'm really sorry about it's crappiness, and I encourage you to at least read the next chapter before dropping it completely. Next chapter isn't going to be as choppy and GASP THE WINCHESTERS MAKE THEIR DEBUT!**


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